When it comes to Murakami’s books, I tend to take a longer time to finish. By ‘longer’ I mean, maybe more than 5 – 6 months since 1. I read books during selective weekend / night. 2. I love how he put things into picture until it seemed alive and as if the words themselves are talking to me hence I tend to have a lot of my kind-of- silent-moment upon his brilliant elaboration (I guess that what made him as a legendary writer). His words hit the right spot and yeah, he really is an excellent author no doubt about it.
In Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, when Tsukuru dreamt he was in a great jealousy for the first time in his life, Murakami successfully (at least in my view) inserted “jealousy” into a vivid frame. It just feels the same like what I sometimes feel and finally, I found the right word – most hopeless prison. Being in state of jealousy is like being in a hopeless prison that you stepped in yourself. No matter how suffocated you are in the prison, you insist to stay for some odd reasons.
“Jealousy—at least as far as he understood it from his dream—was the most hopeless prison in the world. Jealousy was not a place he was forced into by someone else, but a jail in which the inmate entered voluntarily, locked the door, and threw away the key. And not another soul in the world knew he was locked inside. Of course if he wanted to escape he could do so. The prison, was after all, his own heart. But he couldn’t make that decision. His heart was as hard as a stone wall. This was the very essence of jealousy.”